


your skin is used to colder bones

by InkCaviness



Series: yamaguchi week [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Violence, im sorry, inspired by final haikyuu quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkCaviness/pseuds/InkCaviness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tadashi steps out of the tent the air is frigid and a thick layer of fog obscures his view. He pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulder, swings the quiver over his shoulder and starts his way through the camp. It feels like walking through clouds that announce a thunderstorm in the distance and if he strains his ears it’s almost as if he can hear the rumbling rolling closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your skin is used to colder bones

**Author's Note:**

> days four and five of [Yamaguchi Week](http://inkcaviness.tumblr.com/post/131484079443/yamaguchi-week-official-themes), the prompts were "crows" and "victory"
> 
> I really though it could finish this week without writing angst but apparently I can't so here we are again!  
> the tilte is from "the pantaloon" by twenty one pilots

When Tadashi steps out of the tent the air is frigid and a thick layer of fog obscures his view. He pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulder, swings the quiver over his shoulder and starts his way through the camp. It feels like walking through clouds that announce a thunderstorm in the distance and if he strains his ears it’s almost as if he can hear the rumbling rolling closer.

It’s oddly quiet, everything’s dulled by the fog and he can only make out vague shapes around him, quiet whispering voices, and the occasional sharp sound of metal against metal. Then, clear as a bell, a croaky cawing interrupts the eerie silence. A shiver runs down Tadashi’s spine as he looks up to find a shadowy crow cutting through the sky. It emits another caw as it flies in a wide circle over the camp and its eyes gleam bright yellow in the dark. Tadashi is frozen in place, staring up at the crow and following its movements.

 

Without the slightest sound an arrow cuts through the air and pierces the crow’s body. Its eye lights up one last time and then the shadow dissolves, feathers blown away by a sudden gust of wind and when Tadashi blinks it’s gone without a trace.

 

-

 

_Tetsurou leans back against the tree and looks up into the clear blue sky. There’s a heavy weight on his shoulder and he’s tempted to fall asleep the way Yamaguchi did but there’s an icy cold slowly creeping through his veins like liquid ice and not even their entwined hands can warm up his fingertips. It shouldn’t be this peaceful, he thinks, not with a war creeping closer and closer to their meadows with every day, but this must be the calm before the storm that people always seem to talk about._

_With a sigh he closes his eyes, tries to pretend that everything’s the way it used to be before the dark army rose up but it’s getting harder to pretend and time is passing fast. He cards his fingers through his hair and his stomach twists painfully at the feeling of two tiny nubs under his fingertips, right above his temples. For once he’s glad about his unruly hair that hides them but he knows they’ll grow bigger and he knows that sooner rather than later someone will notice the way his eyes flash red when he gets angry and the way the shadows seem to gather around him._

_But for now he can pretend, for now he can keep the icy cold bottle up inside and ignore the whispering voices in the wind if only it means he can stay like this a moment longer. For now he pretends he doesn’t see the crows perched up in the crown of the tree above, the way it’s leering at them with bright yellow eyes._

_-_

Tadashi remembers the day the cold started seeping into his bones and he hasn’t been able to escape the chill ever since.

 

The crow came on one of the last sunny days of the year, soaring over the treetops, diving down low occasionally as if it was playing catch with the wind. At first Tadashi found it amusing to watch the animal’s antics after a hard day of work and even though his shoulders were aching he was laughing brightly. His laughter stopped the moment the crow landed on one of the old aspen trees along the road and stared at him with burning yellow eyes. It let out one last caw, a bone chilling sound, before it vanished like a blown-out candlelight.

 

It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over his head, he was suffocating, struggling to get back to the surface. When he finally pulled himself free from this trance the yellow eyes had captured him in his heart started racing with a fear he couldn’t quite explain back then. He ran as fast as he could down the road towards his village and the closer he came the more he felt like he was suffocating and soon the air started filling up with smoke, dark grey and uncomfortably hot against his skin. It made breathing almost unbearable and his throat was aching, making him cough and desperately snap for air. Just one last hill, he told himself, but when he got to the top and the valley spread out under him he started stumbling, almost lost his balance and his legs hurt almost as badly as his heaving lungs.

 

By the he got home from the forest that day the fire had died down already and left behind in its wake were only burnt down houses and scorched trees, a smudged charcoal drawing on ripped paper. He couldn’t even cry even though it felt as if someone was slowly crushing his lungs, breaking his ribs and his feet were heavy as lead when he stumbled down the road. He made it to his parent’s house, across from the bakery, next to the spinster’s hut, and he didn’t recognize anything. Nothing was left, no trace of his family, no stone stacked on the other and he thinks that maybe that day he ran out of tears.

 

-

 

_He reaches down to lace up is boots and as always his fingertips feel too numb, the grin on his face stretches his mouth too wide until his teeth stick out. And the worst part of all is that he doesn’t care. There’s a black hole in his chest, an ice cube the size of his fist where his heart should be and he’s so tired but he can’t closes his eyes. Tetsurou’s eyes roam over the camp at the foot of the hill, as busy as it’s been ever since the war started and he wishes he could remember the way he used to feel sorry for all of those people who hurry about between the hastily build up tents._

_He can’t remember. He hasn’t been able to remember since that fire took everything away from him._

_With a sigh he turns around and goes back to his tent. There’s no point in staring out over the camp or over to the one far far away, in a distance that no human eye should be able to spot this easily._

_But he isn’t human; he has to remind himself of that, even after years of this darkness eating away at his soul. He isn’t human and, technically seen, he doesn’t even have a soul so what does he need a heart for? What does he need a heart for if the person he cared abut most is gone anyway._

_-_

 

Tadashi reaches up to tie back his hair. His fingers are steady, they stopped shaking a long time ago because now there isn’t much he needs to be afraid of. The most important parts of his life have been ripped away already anyway.

 

His stomach feels tight, their supplies of food and clean water are starting to run low but after today it’ll all be over, for better or for worse. He tested his bow and his arrows, made sure his knife is strapped to his leg and his sword is hanging by his side. There’s no way he could ever afford a horse, he can barely afford the clothes on his back, but most of their animals have died from disease and hunger already anyway and the soldiers trudge through the mud by foot. How many of them know what they’re fighting for, how many of them still know what sunlight feels like. Tadashi tries not to think about those questions too much, instead he just marches on. It’s a routine by now, a routine he never wanted to learn. March, fight, build up the camp. Rinse and repeat.

 

The battlefield appears all of a sudden, a wide plane stretching out between the two camps. The ground is soaked with blood and there’s a terrible stench in the air. Tadashi doesn’t need to look up to know that the crow is circling high above, too far away to shoot it down but close enough that he can feel its stare between his shoulder blades.

 

As an archer he stays in the back rows and falls into his rhythm. Pull back the bowstring, aim, shoot. He’s good at this, good at killing, and he tries not to think too much about what he’s doing here. The woman next to him falls to the ground with a strangled yell, a black arrow stuck in her throat and Tadashi knows he can’t help her anymore. All he can do is fix his aim on the opposing archer. The man is younger than him, still a boy probably and when their eyes meet Tadashi hesitates for a moment.

 

Somewhere there might be a mother waiting for her son to return home, a younger sister, maybe a lover. He doesn’t want to shoot. In the last second he jerks his hand to the side, releases the bowstring and the arrow flies in a curved line. It hits the young man’s shoulder and Tadashi is glad he can’t hear the scream of pain over the noises of the battle. He doesn’t wait to see what happens to the other archer, all he can do is wish him good luck and move on.

 

-

 

_He doesn’t need any weapons in his hands, the crow soaring above his head and the pitch black shadows pooling around his legs do the trick. With a flick of his wrist a row of soldier fall to their feet, desperately grasping their throats before blood starts spilling out of their mouths. They’re dead within seconds and Tetsurou strides on without looking left or right. He doesn’t know what his goal is, what the point of this fight is._

_A caw rips him out of his thoughts and he looks up in time to see the time an archer standing with his back straight, the tip of an arrow and then excruciating pain explodes in his chest._

_-_

Tadashi moves over the battlefield swiftly, trying not to engage in any direct fights but focus on taking out stronger fighter from a distance. There’s a cut on his upper arm where a sword graced him but it’s not deep and it has already stopped bleeding. Out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of a familiar flutter of feathers and suddenly anger flares up in the back his head. Wherever he goes the crow seems to be following him, bringing pain and suffering in its wake. Before he can change his mind he’s swirled around, the bowstring pulled back as far as he can. His aim follows the crow even when it suddenly dives straight downwards. His fingers hurt from gripping the string so tightly and he lets go, watches the arrow cut through the air sharper than any knife.

 

The crow is gone.

 

Instead there’s a man standing in the middle of the battlefield. Around him there’s only scorched earth and none of the soldiers dare get any closer than a few feet away from him. A pair of horns curl at the side of his head and he’s wearing a coat that almost touches the ground.

 

An arrow juts out from his chest and his eyes go wide in surprise and something else, recognition, as he stares at Tadashi who’s frozen to the spot. Time moves slow, too slow, and the man falls forward, to his knees just as a whispered name escapes Tadashi’s lips.

 

“Kuroo.”

 

-

 

_The archer doesn’t move, only lowers his bow and even from a distance Tetsurou recognizes him. He’d recognize him anywhere, the freckles dusting his cheeks, the slant of his nose, the way he holds his body. His hair has gotten longer and a few strands fell out of his ponytail to frame his face._

_As he falls to his knees Tetsurou thinks that this must be his fair punishment, to be killed by an angle, the ghost of his past. The pain that spreads from the arrow in his chest is searing hot, boiling in his veins. For once his hands aren’t cold._

_The archers lips move, they form words, something he should recognize._

_His name._

_Yamaguchi calls his name and Tetsurou slumps forward towards the muddy ground._

_-_

He’s not in control of his body anymore; his legs move on their own and carry him forward towards the man he just shot. It can’t be, he tells himself, Kuroo is dead. He’s been dead for almost ten years now but there’s still that tiny spark of hope in his heart, the one he though was gone already. Just as the man falls forward Tadashi reaches him and falls to his knees, acting on instinct when he catches the stranger. It must be a stranger he tells himself.

 

He grips the other mans shoulder tightly to keep him upright although his hands are slippery with blood and when he finally gets a good look at the stranger’s face his throat closes up and his body goes rigid.

 

It’s Kuroo. There’s no mistaking him, there’s no way he would ever forget this face even though it’s twisted in pain now.

 

It’s Kuroo and his blood is coating Tadashi’s hands and for the first time in almost ten years he can feel tears streaming from his eyes.

 

-

 

_“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou whispers when Yamaguchi pulls him closer to his chest, “I’m sorry.”_

_He doesn’t get a reply and all he can hear is Yamaguchi’s sobbing and the sound of metal on metal. The crow’s cawing is starting to die and he knows it’s not a good sign, just like the black dots at the corners of his vision._

_“I’m sorry,” he manages to force out one last time before he’s cut off by blood filling his mouth._

_I’m so sorry Tadashi, he thinks and closes his eyes._

_-_

Tadashi doesn’t notice time passing, doesn’t notice the battle around them dying down, all the sees are Kuroo’s eyes glazing over and turning lifeless and the heavy weight of his limp body in his lap. When he looks up everything is blurry from the tears in his eyes and he blinks them away until he can sees a bit better. The sky has cleared up and it seems as if the battle has ceased. Dead and injured soldiers are strewn across the plane and like this they all look the same.

 

As he lets his gaze sweep around one thing catches his eye. A flag, white and gold and orange, waves on a pole in the other camp, far over the tents.

 

They won. He won. Whatever he’d been fighting for had finally been won and yet he can’t recall what it was, what had driven him to this.

 

“I’m sorry, Tetsurou,” he whispers and his voice cracks on the name.

 

A single, pitch black feather floats down from the sky until it hits the blood soaked ground.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://inkcaviness.tumblr.com)


End file.
